


Earthquakes

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-11
Updated: 2008-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared tries to shave with an injured hand, on the brink of failing, when Jensen catches him and yells, then shaves him himself. Somehow this innocent intimacy tips the scale for Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earthquakes

**Author's Note:**

> Felt like writing something short and sweet. Btw, don't remember if Jared's right- or left-handed. Forgive me? And this isn't really about a shaving kink or about shaving at all. The act just starts it off.

It happened without my consent. No, really, it did. One minute I was standing there with a bruised hand from a stunt gone wrong, trying to shave with the wrong hand, when he walked in to the bathroom.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he explodes, looking furious.

“…Shaving?...” I know I sound confused but I know what I was trying to do. Just not why it would make him so mad.

“With your left hand?!”

“…Uh…Yeah?...” Exactly. Still confused. And wondering why I never noticed how cloudy his eyes get when he’s pissed. I mean I’ve noticed but it’s never been a big deal before.

“Jay, you doofus, you’re right-handed!”

So, okay, I am. Totally. But Sam, my character and reason for happy pay days, is a clean-cut emo kid who never has a five o’clock shadow. Hence the effort to shave with my left hand.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” He says, finally calming down. “Give it here.” He holds out his hand for the razor as I contemplate whether or not to do what he requests. A pissed Jen is not a steady Jen, best friend or not. “You don’t trust me?”

“No! I mean yes! Of course! I just…” It’s the eyes. Everyone always says I can get what I want because I give my patented ‘puppy dog’ look. Truth is all Jen has to do is give me his intense ‘time to get serious’ look and I immediately give in every time.

I hand over the razor and sit on the toilet. He comes to stand in front of me, close enough for me to smell a slightly musky cologne on him (I make note to find out what it is so I can buy a bottle for him because it smells great), and puts a gentle hand under my chin. When the razor starts to stroke up the right side on my neck I relax. He knows what he’s doing. The razor is slow and sure, confident. My cheeks get the same treatment as my neck, though he leans closer to me now. I watch his face as he shaves me, watch how focused he is, how his eyes are narrow and mossy green. He doesn’t even notice that I track each movement he makes or that for some reason my upper body is swaying just a little.

Safe. That’s what I am. I’m safe here. With Jen. Always have been. I don’t question why, just let myself recognize and feel the feeling for a while. When he’s done he holds my chin, turning it this way and that to inspect my face and neck, then declares me smoother than a baby’s ass.

“Thanks,” I tell him softly, my voice suddenly hoarse and barely there.

He smiles down at me, still holding my chin in his hand, only now his eyes are dark and clear and there’s something there, some thing I can’t see but want to. He doesn’t say anything else for a second. I smile in return, can’t help but to, and just like that the earth quakes.


End file.
